


Are We Human?

by Lady_of_Rohan



Series: Connor Whump [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Android Gore (Detroit: Become Human), Androids, Blood, Blood and Injury, Carrying, Dad Hank, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Father Figures, Gen, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Gunshot Wounds, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hank Anderson Swears, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Mentioned Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Pain, Protective Hank Anderson, Robot Feels, Robot/Human Relationships, Robots, Serious Injuries, Swearing, Thirium (Detroit: Become Human), Vomiting, Whump, drink everytime Hank drops an F bomb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22895830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_Rohan/pseuds/Lady_of_Rohan
Summary: Connor sustains a major injury while hunting down a suspect, and while repairing him, Hank soon finds out just how life-like the android really is.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Series: Connor Whump [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645918
Comments: 37
Kudos: 374





	Are We Human?

**Author's Note:**

> My first Detroit fic! And of course it's Connor being badly injured and Hank taking care of him. I definitely wrote this the way I see them, as father and son, but I am absolutely not offended by Hankcon, so if you wanna see it that way, have a field day!

In hot pursuit, his systems told him. A colloquial expression that indicated he was fast on the suspect's trail.

_No escape, now._

What he hadn't detected, was a partner in crime, lying in wait as he bounded across the rooftop.

A shot rang out. Connor heard it milliseconds before he could react to it.

Bullets tore through his knee, and then peppered down his lower leg, instantly sending him sprawling. His arms raised out beneath him as he hit the ground with jolting, disorienting force... but it wasn't enough to prevent the side of his face from skidding against concrete.

**[system diagnostic processing...]**

**[critical damage to left leg component]**

**[limb shutting down]**

He was about to push himself off the ground, when he heard Hank's footsteps approaching from behind, followed by his heavy breaths from overexerting himself.

"Connor! Jesus Christ!"

"He's getting away... I have to stop him!"

Before he could attempt to right himself, Hank was knelt down beside him, and his hands were on him, turning him onto his back.

" _Fuck_ , Connor, don't be an idiot." He watched as Hank's eyes skimmed over him, falling upon his bullet-riddled leg. "That's a lot of blood. God, it's _gushing_... they blew your whole fucking knee out."

_Blood_... he'd actually called it _blood_...

Hank honestly looked disgusted by the sight of thirium spurting out of Connor's leg, along with electrical sparks. Yet still, his hands pressed upon his wounds as if he was simply another fallen comrade, of the fleshy variety.

"They nicked one of my main tubing units."

Hank's greying brow scrunched up. "Like an artery?"

Connor nodded.

"Fuck, this is a mess..." His large hands kept applying pressure, palms and the spaces between his fingertips soon stained blue.

Connor attempted to keep a cool head. He was terrified of showing too much emotion.. of scaring Hank, of scaring _himself_. He must have shown something on the exterior, because Hank met his gaze evenly, concern lining his aged features.

"You gonna be okay, son? You don't... look so great."

"I'm fine." Connor replicated a tired sigh. "As I said before, androids don't feel pain."

Though it was far from pleasant, that much was certain. Hank shrugged him off, pulling off his own jacket and draping it over his brilliantly blue-stained knee. He then removed his belt, looping it around Connor's thigh and pulling it tight. Connor released an unexpected gasp as his sensors went off, blinking red, informing him of how much blood he lost, and a prediction of how much he'd lose by the time they sought out safety.

**[thirium levels decreased by 15%]**

"I'm guessing a tourniquet will still keep that from leaking?"

"Yes, my thirium supplies will be cut off, just like human arteries."

"Think you can stand?"

"I can certainly try."

Hank righted himself, and easily hefted Connor from beneath the arms. He was upright for a few moments, but as he took a step on his uninjured leg, he stumbled weakly, pitching forward. Connor hissed, his left knee completely dysfunctional as he was unable to put weight on it. Hank caught him as he fell against the Lieutenant's broad chest.

"I assure you, I'm fine--" Connor protested, though an electric-spark reminder had shot down his wounded limb.

"'Fine', my ass. Come here." Hank bent low, as Connor felt his sensors mildly panicking, LED blinking red.

"Lieutenant, what are you doing?"

"Carrying you. And yes, that's an order from your partner before you get smart with me."

Connor's mind was scrambling. Had he really said it?  
  
Partner. _Partner_.

Hank easily scooped him up and over his shoulder to balance his weight, though he was careful not to jostle his knee as his hands secured him in place via his rear-end instead of behind his legs.

"You're not as heavy as I expected." Hank gave a huff, once Connor was steady and gripping the back of Hank's shirt for dear life.

"We're made of lightweight, hollow plastic, comparable to human bones. It wouldn't bode well if we dented tile wherever we walked."

Hank grunted, beginning to carry him back towards safety. Mercifully, there was an elevator down to the main floor nearby.

"So what now? I take you to... a repair shop? A robo-doctor?"

"No!" Connor's body stiffened over Hank's shoulder. "We can't risk the investigation being halted. I can... replace the pieces myself, as well as replenish my thirium supply."

"And where do we get those, the robot store?" Hank snorted.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Exactly."

"And how am I supposed to pay for this?"

Connor tapped his LED, still balanced delicately by Hank. "The funds are already transferred to your account."

"Well shit," Hank muttered.

They made it back down to Hank's car, updating the nearby officers to Connor's injuries as he got him situated in the passenger's seat, elevating his leg to be propped upon the dashboard. They seemed a bit puzzled that Hank had taken it upon himself to help repair him. Soon, they were off down the road, towards the nearest Android Zone storefront.

Connor found himself oddly focused on his breathing, his systems buzzing. He could feel his thirium pump beating unusually fast, and his blood was already soaking through Hank's jacket. The scenery of the dirty city streets passing by made him oddly dizzy, trying not to think about shutting down and further startling Hank.

"We're almost there," Hank said, driving a bit recklessly, as he flipped the lights and sirens on. "How you doin'?"

He closed his eyes and ran a quick diagnostic.

**[leg component dysfunctional]**

**[replace limb for optimal functionality]**

**[thirium levels decreased by 31%]**

**[processor slowed and may experience error]**

"The damage is worse than I thought," Connor said, keeping his voice even. "I believe I may... temporarily reserve power."

The car came to a screeching, swerving halt at the storefront, jostling Connor around a bit as Hank turned to look at him.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, _wait_... what the fuck does that mean?!"

"You can... liken it to... human fainting..."

"You're going to pass out?!"

He gave a nod, before putting himself into reserve, head tilted back against the car seat. All was black, calm, and completely void of any stress of pain, until he was suddenly jolted awake

"Connor! Hey, Connor!"

He felt pressure against the side of his face, as Hank had touched his temple to power him back on, and then slapped him rather hard. His optical units took a few moments to focus, and when he did, he saw Hank smirking at him.

"Hank...? Did you just slap me--? You could have simply touched my LED..."

"Hey, turnabout's fair play."

He couldn't deny that, in all honesty. Connor noticed the car was no longer moving, as Hank moved out of the driver's seat with a bag of supplies in hand. He exited the vehicle and came around to the passenger's side. Slipping his arms beneath his legs and around his waist, he hefted him with a groan from the seat.

"I've got you, son... come on. We're home."

The door to Hank's humble abode open, Sumo was immediately excited to see them, before issuing a sad whimper at the sight of Hank carrying Connor.

"Hey, boy..." Hank soothed. "I'll walk you once we fix your brother."

Connor blinked a few times. Were his systems malfunctioning, or did Hank really just say that?

He was surprised, even in his low-powered stupor, that Hank took him into the bedroom, of all places. He laid him down gently, propping pillows behind Connor's head and then removing his ruined jacket and makeshift tourniquet from his leg.

Hank then yanked off his shoes, and then went for his belt, seeming like he wanted nothing more than to get this awkward bit over with.

"Can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered, unzipping his fly and promptly tugging Connor's jeans down.

"Lieutenant, I can manage myself, if you're uncomfortable--"

Hank grunted, the deed already done. "Guess that answers my question."

"What's that?"

"If robots wear boxers or briefs."

Hank was pulling a face at Connor's high-cut, bright blue briefs.

"They're standard for all androids," Connor said simply.

"I think these went out of style 40 years ago. Christ, your legs are skinny."

Unsure what to say to that, Connor shrugged. Once his pants were fully off, Connor noticed immediately that his kneecap component was hanging almost totally off of his leg, dangling there in a disturbing manner.

He gauged the Lieutenant's features. Hank looked sick at the sight of it, eyeing the bullet holes riddling his lower leg.

" _Fuck_ , Connor... how does that not hurt?"

"As I said, we are programmed to not feel--"

To his utter shock, Connor's words died on his lips when Hank shoved the tip of his finger inside of one of the wounds, gauging its depth.

Electrical warnings went off in Connor's head, optical units rolling back into his skull. Something strange overcame him... something he didn't like experiencing one bit. His leg felt hot, like it was electrocuted, as it sent shockwaves through his system. The sensation overwhelmed him so deeply, that it settled in his midsection, and he turned his head to the side, leaning over the edge of the bed and expelling thirium from his stomach compartment, all over the floor.

"Fuck! You can puke, too?!" Hank was instantly cradling Connor's head as he coughed. "I'm sorry, Connor, I didn't think--"

Connor mentally accepted the apology. He couldn't be surprised that Hank wanted to see for himself. It was better than being shot in the head, in any case.

"It's..." Connor wiped his mouth on his sleeve, wondering if this was what 'embarrassment' felt like. "It's just a defense mechanism... to... stop... further... damage."

"Bull-fucking-shit," Hank hissed, still holding him. "It's a pain response. Like you passing out. God, this is so fucked up...you feel pain... you _actually_ feel pain... next thing you know, you'll be taking a shit in my bathroom."

Though weakened, Connor couldn't help himself. "That would be an interesting feat, seeing as we are not equipped with an orifice such as the human anus--"

Hank cut him off. "Didn't... need to hear that." A beat. "Looks like you lost more blue blood."

"Seems that way. I'm down about 46%."

Hank was moving to the box of supplies, and Sumo entered the room to survey what was going on. Unsurprisingly, he instantly saw the regurgitated blue blood, sniffing the ground before licking it. When Hank turned, his face was positively horrified.

"Agh, Jesus! Sumo! Bad dog!"

"It's all right, Lieutenant, thirium is non-toxic and animal safe."

"You both are fucking disgusting," Hank muttered, and Sumo whined, before Connor reached over the edge of the bed to pet him and calm him down. The canine settled for laying by the side of the bed, keeping a watchful eye.

When Connor looked over to him, Hank was holding up an IV bag of thirium.  
  
"They just gave me this weird... bag thingy. Like a blood bag."

"Yes, you can attach it to my arm component. Or, I can ingest it orally."

"Nuh uh, not after you barfed on my floor. You're getting the attachment."

That was fair enough. Hank helped Connor out of his jacket, and then rolled up his shirt sleeve past the elbow. With a touch of Connor's opposite hand, his skin projection was disabled along his arm, and a white panel soon opened. A long blue tube, similar to a vein, was exposed beneath his plastic.

Retrieving the blood bag, Hank pulled the protective cover from the plug-like end. "What now?"

"Simply insert it."

  
"Huh.. like plugging in a TV cable."

Giving a shrug, Hank shoved it into the matching insertion point in the crook of Connor's elbow. Connor winced, then leaned back against the pillows, and sighed once his sensors indicated that the line was inserted correctly.

**[thirium line connected]**

  
**[systems restoring]**

"Sorry if that hurt," Hank said, grabbing the bag and holding it up to keep the line straight. "Did I do it?"

"Yes... successful connection."

They obviously weren't in a hospital, and Connor took slight amusement in watching Hank shuffle over to his coat rack, moving it closer to the bed and hanging the thirium bag from it to keep a steady line.

"All right, let's... fix that leg. Hope it's as simple as the IV."

"It's relatively straight forward," Connor said tiredly, and watched while Hank unpacked the replacement part, a brand new component. Sumo looked a bit excited, giving a bark as Hank held up the pasty lower leg that resembled a mannequin, but must have looked like a bone to the creature.

"No, no... buddy," Hank said, "not for you." Getting himself situated near the edge of the bed again, Hank looked to Connor for directions. "Okay, walk me through this."

"Disconnect my leg just above the knee," Connor said. "There should be a mechanism there."

Nodding, Hank followed the directions grimly. His bloodstained hands pressed on either side of Connor's broken knee, and with a mechanical hiss, the part came loose. Connor noticed that he looked incredibly disturbed as he set the damaged leg aside, the android obviously laying there with half a leg missing.

"It's okay," Connor reassured, "I'm fine, just connect the new one."

In all honesty, Connor was impressed as Hank pressed down on his thigh as leverage, and then popped the new leg into place effortlessly. In a matter of seconds, the plastic, white limb had transformed to pale, pink skin, matching Connor's pallid tone. Connor sighed in relief, feeling much better now that his damaged leg was replaced.

All of a sudden, Hank seemed quiet as he sat at the edge of the bed near to him. He stared a few long moments, the warmth of his palm resting on Connor's new, undamaged knee.

"You're surprisingly gentle," Connor said quietly, after some time had passed. "Perhaps in another life, you could have had a career as a surgeon."

Hank scoffed. "Me? A surgeon? Thanks, kid, but... I've only been a doctor for one other person on this godforsaken earth."

"For who?" Connor asked without thinking, realizing a few moments later who it must have been.

"For... Cole." Hank's eyes glazed over. "I remember... him falling off his bike. Scraping up his knee real bad. And him thinking I was the coolest dad for knowing first aid."

Connor wasn't sure what to say, so he said what he felt, rather than what he was programmed for.

"Well, I think you're 'pretty cool' for helping me today."

An expression that Connor had never seen upon Hank's features passed over them briefly. He chuckled, looking down at Connor's new leg, giving him another pat before righting himself. Then, just like that, the sarcasm, the facade, was right back to where it usually was.

"Am I supposed to tell you to wiggle your toes or something?"

With a smile, Connor did just that, his repaired leg working just fine. Hank smiled back, and used the knitted afghan at the end of the bed to cover up Connor's legs and keep him warm.

"Guess I'm gonna... clean that mess up before Sumo has another snack. Rest easy, kid."

As Hank left to go get some cleaning supplies, Connor laid there, fresh thirium filtering into his system. He felt... _contented_. Cared for. It was novel to him, but oddly enough, he didn't feel so frightened by it when Hank was around.

He supposed they weren't so different. Though Hank was a human cop, and he a machine trained to mercilessly hunt deviants... they both tried desperately to hide the one thing that scared them most, from the rest of the world: _humanity._

**Author's Note:**

> Ralph will give you all succulent treats if you leave a review. For real though, I'm working on more! I hope you like!


End file.
